


setting fire to our insides for fun

by coeurdebandite



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Five Kisses Challenge, Lydia-centric, first part is the five lovers that went wrong, second is the one that didn't aka stiles stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 19:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1577444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coeurdebandite/pseuds/coeurdebandite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five lovers that went wrong and the one that doesn't.</p><p>or</p><p>Five times Lydia kisses someone else, five times she kisses Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	setting fire to our insides for fun

**Author's Note:**

> I've fallen and I can't get up.

1\. Jackson Whittemore

 

The first time she kisses Jackson is during a game of _Seven Minutes in Heaven_.

They're in a closet, the faint smell of washing powder lingering around them. He hasn't spoken, hasn't moved for three minutes and considering that there are only four minutes left, she decides to take the matter in her own hands.

After all she did plan this, selected him to be her first kiss with just as much careful consideration as she put into selecting the perfect outfit for this night. Lydia likes to be prepared.

"Are you going to kiss me or continue staring at your hands?"

His head shoots up and she can see him swallow, adam's apple bobbing. "What?"

She sighs and crosses the small distance of the closet.  
He stares at her with wide, vibrant blue eyes, as she sits down crosslegged in front of him.

This is not one of the love movies she adores. The music playing in the background is a strong bass not a slow melody played on a piano, they're in a closet not under a spangled sky and the boy she chose is silent and not complimeting her eyes or smile.

She lifts her hand to his cheek and leans forward, pressing her lips on his. His nervousness melts into thin air as soon as their lips touch and fingers tangle in her hair, pulling her closer.  
It feels a little bit like a movie.

What follows is a love so consuming it tears them both to pieces. They're both young, too young for a love like this.  
They hate each other with the same kind of passion they love the other.

Jackson is her first everything and she is his.

But before she knows it she is kissing him for the last time.

A week ago he told her he would go to London and never come back.  
It didn't surprise her, but it still hurts.

That night they throw the key in a lake, a symbolic action for both of them, the beginning of the end.

When he whispers a broken _I love you too_ against her temple, tears spring to her eyes and spill over.  
It is the first time he's said it, but she knew anyway.

And then he is gone, the milk glass doors of the airport gate closing behind his form.

 

 

2\. Scott McCall

 

It's stupid and she knows it.  
Still, it doesn't hinder her from lurching forward to slant her lips on his.

Lydia grabs a handful of thick, black hair and pulls him down to her. He grunts and fingers dig in her back.  
She pours all her bottled up anger in the kiss.

Jackson and her have been fighting lately, more than usual. A teacher asked why she was constantly acing all the tests, but never lifted a finger in class. Her father's new girlfriend is pregnant and her mother's new best friend is a bottle of red wine. She feels alone.

The kiss is hot, a little bruising even, she likes it.  
Never in a hundred years did she expect Scott McCall to kiss like this.

He suddenly pulls back, confusion written all over his face. "I - what just happened?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Are you actually serious or just acting as if you wouldn't know?"

Scott looks so taken aback, she doesn't have the heart to roll her eyes.  
Right, he likes Allison and Allison likes him. For a second, she forgot.

He looked at her as if he wanted to devour her - she had no option but kiss him.

Is she an awful friend? She is, probably.

"No, just - how the hell could I let that happen? I - Stiles. Shit, shit, shit."  
With that, he storms out of the room and leaves her high and dry.

It was very stupid, she decides while fixing her lipstick.  
She still enjoyed it.

 

 

3\. Peter Hale's ghost

 

She has no idea what she has stumbled into.

He's a handsome and prying stranger, she's met twice and doesn't know the name of. And right now, he's prevailing on her to kiss him, because she lost the flower he gave her.  
Everything about this situation is ridiculous, yet exciting.

Lydia feels herself being drawn to him against her better judgement.

He takes her hands and she steps forward, her bare feet crumbling the dry leaves beneath them. The look on his face frightens her.  
He looks at her like a drug addict looks at his drug, like a predator looks at his prey, like he _needs_ her.

It's intoxicating and her eyes flutter closed, just before he dives in.

Yet she's the one who ultimately closes the gap between them.

The first kiss leaves her breathless, as they break away, foreheads still touching.  
They kiss again, longer and more heated this time. His grip tightens, when she clutches the collar of his shirt and her heart beat reverberates in her whole body.

When she tastes ash, she pulls back.

Her handsome stranger has morphed into the man that threatened her during class, his face is burnt, blistered and the skin is peeling off in black shreds.  
The house has changed too.

She stumbles backwards and her feet are stained black with ash and dirt, smoke filling her lungs.  
Her back hits a wall and the man stalks closer to her.

Lydia screams.

 

  

4\. Allison Argent

 

They're both single, frustrated and drunk, when it happens.  
 _The Notebook_ is playing on the huge flatscreen and they're taking a shot everytime someone cries, kisses or argues.

Needless to say they're both wasted, lying giggling on Allison's bed.

"Boys are dumb.", Allison slurs.

"I concur.", she agrees. "I believe it's scientifically proven. If it's not I will prove it."

Her best friend laughs and takes her hand. Lydia turns her head and smiles.  
Then she groans, pointing to the television screen.

"They're arguing. I feel queasy."

Allison jumps up, refills the two shot glasses for what feels like the hundredth time and squeals: "Tequila, come on, Lyds!"

They drink, then shudder with disgust.  
The world is spinning and Allison shifts closer to her, entwining their fingers once more. Together they stare at the flickering light of the tv dancing across the ceiling.

"Have you ever kissed a girl?", Allison suddenly asks.

"Are we playing _Never have I ever_ now?", she mocks. Then sighs and says: "I have. Once at a party, during a game of _Spin the Bottle_."  
A lot of Lydia's firsts have happened on parties. She was another person back then, at the top of the high school food chain.

"I haven't."

They're silent for a second. Then Lydia props up on her elbow, her best friend looking up at her, eyes wide as saucers.  
She leans down and presses her lips lightly on Allison's.  
Their kiss turns into a sloppy, giggling mess that tastes like lemon, alcohol and vanilla chapstick.

Both pull back at the same time and laugh, a tad breathless.

"My head is spinning even more now.", Allison pouts.

"God, you're my best friend."  
Allison beams and wraps an arm around Lydia's waist. They fall asleep half-hugging and facing the other, the movie still playing in the background.

Months later she has to attend her best friend's funeral.  
Lydia's world will never be the same again.

 

  

5\. Aiden

 

Kissing Aiden for the first time is exactly like their whole 'entanglement' proceeded; hot, rushed and a little rough.

They've been flirting for the past two days and she has decided it's time to end their little game. Or push the start button, however you want to call it.  
After lunch, Lydia drags him in an empty classroom and pushes him in a sitting position on a table.

He laughs surprised and she smirks. Control is so much fun.

She slams her lips onto his, sliding in the place between his legs. He responds eagerly, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth.  
When one of his large hands splays over the small of her back, she gives herself a pat on the back. She made a good choice, this boy is exactly what she needed - distraction.

He lifts her up with one arm, spins them around so she's the one sitting on the table and gets rewarded with an appreciative moan.  
She knows he is holding back though. His hands are on her waist, squeezing and sometimes twitching, but not moving. Biting his lip and swallowing his groan, she decides it's time to move to the next base. PG is fun, but not _really_ fun.

"What are you doing?"

He pulls back, looking confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean your hands."

"They're on your waist.", he says, looking like a boy whose toy is about to get taken away by his mother.  
She _so_ wins this game.

"What am I? A nun? Put them somewhere useful."  
His face lights up almost instantly, admiration and gusto written all over his features, and then he is pressing bruising kisses to her neck, while his hands drift down her waist.

A few weeks later she ends their little affair. They had been star-crossed all along, she tries to tell herself.  
Their last kiss is uncommonly gentle, a sliver of what they could have if both of them weren't too wrapped up in a mission they can't win.

His funeral is a week after Allison's.

**Author's Note:**

> The next, final and better (because it's Martinski) chapter will be up in a week, I hope.
> 
> Feedback = love.
> 
> [♡ Tumblr ♡](http://strwbrrblnd.tumblr.com)


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